Reflected Desires
by allbutspeechless
Summary: Draco POV. Draco muses on how he and Harry came together.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, though I do enjoy playing with them. They are the property of the talented Miss Rowling.  
  
Summary: Draco POV. Draco muses on how he and Harry came together.  
  
Warning: This is slash. If you do not like slash, DO NOT click the link. Got it?   
  
He found the Mirror in our first year. It just figured. Bloody Potter always got everything, even if it was only a reflection. According to the rumors, he'd seen his family. James Potter and that lot of Muggles he married into. No proper wizarding pride, that one.  
So naturally, I had to find the blasted thing. He'd seen into it and so must I. Stupid Potter, had to get the damned thing moved. I searched every corridor, every empty classroom. I used every unlocking charm I knew on every door, and taught my own a little English after I tired of Latin. I knew there was a reason I took Arithmancy. After three weeks (and four days, but who's counting?) I found the Mirror of Erised. My greatest desire, huh? More fame, fortune, and even better looks? Strangely, no. I looked into the Mirror, walked away, and came back, but it stayed the same. There I was older, taller, wait... yes, somehow, better looking. Standing with my arm around the waist of a green-eyed boy with dark hair while he leaned his head back against my shoulder. As I watched, my image brushed a kiss across his ear and ran long, elegant fingers through his hair. Then I saw it. That scar. "Bloody hell!" Father was going to kill me.  
  
From then until the end of fifth year, I did everything in my power to deny it. I was viciously cruel at every opportunity, never missing a chance to remind the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die that I was better than him. On the Quidditch Pitch, I was unrelentingly violent, not questioning my need to touch him in some way, be it bloodying his nose or holding his hand as he lay alone and unconscious in the Hospital Wing. I was the soul of enmity. Then I woke up. It was an ordinary day. The ceiling in the Great Hall reflected another rainy spring morning. But I felt.... different. As though the world had tilted, and I was trying to get my balance. Or perhaps that was just Pansy, clinging as always to what she believed was hers. Unfortunately for her, I realized about then that girls just weren't going to do it for me. Unfortunately for me, neither were boys. He looked up and smiled. Then realized who I was and glared. It didn't matter. In that moment I had seen him, really seen him, and was lost. I didn't hear Pansy whining, or Blaise asking for the milk. I forgot to remind Goyle not to read Nietzsche at the table and to snap at Crabbe for practicing his chess strategy. All I knew was big green eyes and a jagged scar fringed by unruly locks of ebony.  
  
It took me a moment to fall in love.  
  
It took another five months before I'd admit it. But somewhere between sabotaging his potions and picking on his friends, Pansy started to notice. She had, after noting my lack of interest, confessed to a fondness for a certain redhead, and they have been dating since. I still don't like him, but he plays a good game of chess. He beat Crabbe twice and has been back for several rematches. Granger has come along a few times, but didn't seem to like the chill of the dungeons. I DID tell her to bring a sweater. Idiot mudblood. Ahem. Sorry, love. Potter began to make a habit of showing up randomly, claiming not to trust us with his best pal. Like we would sacrifice a pureblood? Besides, most of us have decided that old Voldy is off his rocker. We want nothing to do with him. We make our own choices, thankyouverymuch. So anyway, as I was saying. Pans started seeing the Weasel, ahh, Weasley, so of course he brought the rest of the Golden Trio. They're all practically attached. Now while I was perfectly capable of pretending to hate him from afar, being thisclose to Potter on a regular basis was wearing at my defenses. I mean, really. Have you seen the boy? He isn't very tall or muscle bound. He's lithely built. His skin, which used to be a sickly pale has gone all smooth and latte brown (thank you Starbucks) with a hint of rose underneath. His eyes are the same green tone I've seen my father use on the Muggles he used to bring home to play with. And that hair. I know he's seen a stylist, I took him myself, but it defies all reason and magical styling. It's impossibly unruly, impossibly silky, impossibly dark and gorgeous. He's sweet and innocent and unbelievably sexy, mostly because he doesn't know he's sexy.  
Ahh. See what I mean about the distraction? Does it every time. Luckily I don't drool. Though I would still be ridiculously good looking, it seems a bit messy.  
Back to the point. I was fine as long as he kept his distance but then there was the last party. And we'd all been inseparable. Shopping, sneaking in butterbeer and firewhisky, setting arrival times and passwords. I hadn't been along when the girls took Potter to buy his clothes, but I got a bad feeling when Pansy came back smirking and neat as a pin.  
  
Turns out I was right to worry. Halfway through my second drink he walked in and my heart stopped. Wearing soft, body skimming blue jeans and a white shirt, he was a dead ringer for that James Dean that Granger is so enamored of. She'd shown us pictures, the Muggle variety of course, and I had to admit he had a certain appeal. Somehow, the same outfit screamed "SEX!!!" on Harry. I mean, Potter. I mean.... Oh, shut up.  
But then, while I was still in shock, he smiled at me. Not at the room in general, or the girl behind me, ME. Draco Malfoy. And if that wasn't enough to get my attention, he sauntered right up, finished my drink, considered, and kissed me. Right there, with every fifth year in school looking on. Naturally, I kissed him back. He's Harry Bloody Potter! What would you have done? All around us were gasps and murmurs. A few girls cried. Then out of the noise came the voices of reason.  
"It's about ruddy time you two got it together!" Pansy and Granger. Okay, okay, Hermione. Busybodies.  
  
I woke up next to a warm, unfortunately fully-dressed Harry. We were on a couch in, of all places, the Ravenclaw common room. It seemed that some kind soul had left us someplace where we would have quiet and solitude.  
For about five seconds. Then the watchful eyes that had awakened me came pounding down the stairs and chattering enthusiastically. I'm not sure I'm the most excited anymore. These..... PEOPLE are ridiculously pleased to see us together. I heard a variety of comments ranging from how their colors complimented Harry's coloring to whether we could be convinced to give them a show. I suddenly doubted the kindness of the person who left us here.  
  
Moving along. For about a week after our rude awakening, Harry refused to be seen with anyone but his trusty sidekicks. Which meant Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and I spent a lot of our free time in that red and gold atrocity that is Gryffindor's common room. Oww! Damn it, it's true. Stop jabbing me!  
After the week however, he slipped. Not only did he call me by my given name, he walked with me to potions and kissed me goodbye on the way out. Snape turned purple. It was brilliant. It also gave me reason to skip to class, frightening first years along the way. A number of students had seen it, and rumors were flying. The letter from my father came with morning, as expected, coinciding with a rather thrilled Howler from my mother. (She loves the stupid things. No matter what the mood is, if it calls for shrieking like a banshee, it's a Howler.) Father was pleased to inform me that his Friend was furious, and in keeping with said friendship, he would be disowning me forthwith. Mother, on the other hand, was delighted to tell me that in light of Father's decision, she was divorcing him and taking her money, house, and belongings with her. Gotta love a good prenup. She went on to say (to the entire Great Hall) that she rather liked the idea of a Potter in the family and was he coming for the summer? I could see him blush across the Hall.  
"Well, Potter, you heard her. What do you think?" Silence fell over the room as we all waited for a response. He looked to Dumbledore and received a nod, then looked back at me.  
"I suppose I should be spending more time with my boyfriend." I wanted to do a happy dance. I get to keep him!!! The Hall erupted with cheers and applause.  
After lunch, when everyone went to finish packing, Harry and I slipped away.  
"Where are we going?" He asked after the third corridor.  
"Don't be so impatient." I counted doors. One, two, three, four, ahh, five. "Patefacio!"  
  
"Come stand with me," I said, holding out a hand. He came to me, and stood in the circle of my arms, completely relaxed.  
"What do you see mon cher?" I whispered.  
"I see us. Just you and me." I turned him slowly, leaned down for a kiss. And looked over his shoulder. There was Harry, back to the Mirror, in gray slacks and a black tee, arms around me as I stared into my own eyes.  
  
It wasn't the vision I'd had, but I find these days that the illusions of magic are far surpassed by realities of life and love with Harry Bloody Potter. 


End file.
